Walls Down
by Dizzy Takeout
Summary: While at his Grandma's funeral, Puck sees Kurt visting his mom. Can be read as slash, but wasn't meant to be. Kinda ooc, but I did it on purpose.


**Disclaimer:**** I do not own the Glee characters. No profit is being made from this. But... if anybody wants to sell I'll be willing to pay;)**

**AN: First Glee Fic. It's not very good. It's been in my head for days now. And if I didn't write it down, I would go loco. So yeah. Enjoy. **

**fTitle: Walls Down**

**ffSummary: While at his grandmother's funeral, Puck sees Kurt visiting his mother**

Noah 'Puck' Puckerman is a badass. Always was, always will be. He was a stud with the ladies, and he pretty much rocked everyone's world. WMHS's true ruler. Nobody fucks with Puck. Which is precisely why no one can know how close he was with his grandmother.

Looking back, it all makes sense. The Puckerman household was a happy one, until Puck's sister was born. The birth of the second child is what drove his father away, not that Puck would ever tell little Dana that. It would break her heart. But, truth be told, that's what happened. About three months after she was born, Puck was around five, Addam Puckerman left and never came back. This ruined his mother. She locked herself away and didn't let anybody in, not even her children. Especially not her children. When Puck was younger, he didn't understand what happened. He thought his dad had died, like Finn's did. Then, when he found out his dad ran away, he didn't understand why. How could you leave your wife? Your children? The realization hardened Puck and he locked himself away, just like his mother had, to everyone except one person. Who needed them?

Puck had Bubbe. And frankly, that's all he needed. Puck had always been close to his grandma. Every Saturday Puck, Dana and Bubbe would do something. One week, Dana chose, the next Puck and then finally Bubbe. When Puck was younger he found this unfair because Dana and Bubbe were both girls and they always chose 'girly stuff like baking and ponies'. Bubbe always smiled and said "Noah, my bubbala, you'll appreciate this one day." He found that he did.

When his grandfather died, Bubbe moved in with Puck, his mother and his sister. Since his mother was still involved with her own shit and barely remembered her son's name, Bubbe took prime responsibility of the kids. She packed lunches, signed permission slips, and checked the closet for monsters (which Puck will take to his grave).

When Bubbe contracted breast cancer last year, Puck broke down. It wasn't fair. Bubbe was all Puck had. To Puck, Bubbe was the only adult in his life that wasn't completely full of shit. And, well, that was a lot, considering his fucked up parents, his dumbass teachers, and all the other worthless douche faces out there. In other words, Bubbe was the only reason Puck had hope for himself. With that gone, his grades fell completely and he stopped attending classes. He messed with the geeks in his school, because well, their life was so fucking perfect that he needed to level the playing field. Or so he thought at the time.

She passed away on August 4. She died peacefully, in the hospital, while no one was watching her. Puck knew in his heart that she planned this. She knew no one wanted to be haunted with her last breath. He appreciated this._ Beautiful to the end _he thought as he kissed her goodbye.

She had her funeral plans all set before she died. That's how she was. Everyone was to wear white (_Why should it be sad? It's a celebration of my life and well wishes on a happy eternity!_) She wanted it small, but with a full open casket. If there was one thing Bubbe loved it was shoes and she'd be damned if nobody saw them. During the wake, Puck sat in front with his mother and sister. People kissed his cheeks and wished him the best. He hated this. _You barely even know me, stop pretending to feel sorry for me._

The funeral was held on a Friday. It was beautiful. Puck tried to hold his tears back as he comforted his sister. He glanced at his mother as she checked her watch and tapped her foot. _You selfish bitch. After everything she's done for you. _He rolled his eyes and in his peripheral vision he caught sight of a familiar looking face, and a familiar looking fedora.

The figure of Kurt Hummel was seated not twenty feet to his right. He was seated in front of a grave stone and had sheet music spread all around him. Puck wondered why he was here and scolded himself for not paying attention. He redirected his focus back on the ceremony. Puck glanced sneakily back at the soprano and vaguely saw tears running down his classmate's face. Puck shook it off. He sighed, he couldn't. His mind drifted and he imagined exactly what his grandmother would say.

"_Noah Matthew Puckerman! How dare you? You friggin' kholerye! That boy is in your school, he's in your classes, hell Noah, he's on your singing team! You will go over there and you will see if he's ok! I did not raise you to be a coward! Oh vey! What will you do without me, bubbala?"_ Puck chuckled and a wave of agony swept over him. God, he missed her so much. And if he could do one right thing by her, by god he will, and he'll do it with a fucking smile plastered between his cheeks.

* * *

Today was August 12, Lisa Hummel's birthday. Today she would be turning 49, although she would insist the all her cards wish her a happy twenty fifth. It was a Friday, her favorite day of the week. Not only was Wheel of Fortune, it was the one day her son didn't come home and complain about 'The dumb boys putting sand in his lunch box' or 'teacher dressinglike a clown'. Fridays were Hummel nights.

This made the day so much harder for the two remaining Hummels. Both Kurt and Burt slept late trying to put off the melancholy that would haunt the house for the rest of the day. They woke up around the same time and made breakfast; low-fat yogurt with apple slices for Kurt, Cinnamon Toast Crunch for Burt. They ate in silence. Burt was the first to say something.

"I'm going to visit her before work. If you can be ready in twenty minutes, I'll take you." Kurt appreciated the offer, but secretly wanted to visit his mother on his own. He knew Burt did too.

"No thanks, dad. There's no way I can be ready in twenty minutes. I haven't even started my morning skin routine yet. I'll go later." Kurt took his father's bowl and dropped it in the sink to wash later. Burt nodded and retreated to his room to change into work clothes. Kurt sighed and sat back down at the table. He closed his eyes and remembered his mother's last birthday, before she died. She was happy, they all were. Kurt was seven and they all decided to go to the zoo. Kurt didn't really like it, it was so dirty, but, his mother loved it, so he played along. _Look Kurt! Elephants! Aren't they cool? Kurt, honey, come see the sea lions. Oh they do tricks! Sweetie, come see them, quick! _Her voice rang in Kurt's ears, even after all these years.

Kurt stood up and moseyed his way to the basement to start his daily routine. He heard his father leave and Kurt put on some music. He found himself skipping most of the songs so he turned it off and laid on his bed, careful not to wrinkle the sheets.

Minutes turned into hours and by the time Kurt glanced at his alarm clock it was time to visit his mother. He promised her two o'clock. He got up from the bed and checked his outfit for wrinkles. He grabbed his messenger bag and closed the door behind him.

He drove to the grave yard and opened the gate. He signed in and his body automatically took him to his mother's site.

"Hi mom," Kurt whispered, "Happy Birthday."

He sat in the grass, for once not caring what will happen to his jeans. He made himself comfortable and continued speaking, "How are you? I'm pretty good. Thank God, it's summer. Yesterday, I went to the mall with Mercedes and you know the jacket I was telling you about? It was on sale at the Armani outlet. I was so ecstatic. I haven't worn it yet; I'm saving it for the first day of school." Kurt sighed; it was so easy talking to his mother, if only she could answer back.

"Dad came and saw you today, right? He's been so good lately. He really misses you. I can see it." Kurt looked at his mother's grave stone. _A Mother, A Wife, A True Friend. _Kurt felt like that barely scrapped the surface of how truly wonderful his mother was. But, if he had to be fair, he would never be able to choose one sentence to summarize his mother. His father had done a good job.

"Mom, I miss you so much it hurts. You would think that after nine years, nine damn years, I would loosen my grip a little. I haven't. I'm still holding on." Kurt's eyes blurred and he pulled his knees to his chest, "Remember how we used to sing? Just you and I? You would play the piano and I would sit on your lap and play my Sesame Street guitar, which I still have by the way," Kurt smiled at the thought of the toy guitar tucked in the back of his closet, "Well, I really miss that. So, I printed out some sheet music off line. They had your favorite."

Kurt pulled the music from his messenger bag and tapped the beat on his thighs

_I have a dream, a song to sing_

_To help me cope with anything_

_If you see the wonder of a fairytale_

_You can take the future, even if you fail_

Kurt felt the hot tears leave tracks on his cheeks but he didn't wipe them away. He could feel his mother all around him. His hands began to shake and he continued to sing.

_I believe in angels, something good in everything I see_

_I believe in angels, when I know the time is right for me_

_I'll cross the stream_

_I have a dream_

Kurt dropped the paper and buried his face in his hands. It doesn't get easier. The same sorrow is here, year after year, day after day. How is he going to do this the rest of his life?

Suddenly, Kurt felt a gentle hand on his back. He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. When he turned around, he met the eyes of Noah Puckerman.

* * *

"That was really good, Kurt" Puck said softly. He could feel the tension surrounding him and desperately wanted to break it. Kurt shied from his touch.

"What do you want, Puck?" Kurt looked pained as he stared at him, "Can't you wait until school to harass me? What, are all your friends here? Are you gonna bury me and take pictures? That'd be funny right?" Kurt blushed with frustration. He looked up at Puck and immediately regretted what he said. Puck looked like someone had rocked him in the stomach.

"Actually Kurt, I came over to see how you were and if you needed a friend. My mistake." Puck scoffed and headed back in the direction of his grandmother's site. _Thanks a lot, Bubbe. You and your spectacular ideas._

"Wait! Puck, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you. Come back! Please…" Kurt chased after the larger boy and grabbed his shoulder. Puck's initial reaction was to tell the soprano to fuck off, but something stopped him and he turned around. Kurt stared at his shoes and took a deep breath, "I think a friend is exactly what I need."

Puck smiled. Why did he doubt Bubbe in the first place? She was never wrong. He smiled again when a vision of her nodding that 'Of course I'm right!' nod passed through his mind.

Kurt settled himself back down onto the grass and Puck followed suit.

"Who was the song for?" Puck asked and threw his arm around Kurt's shoulder. Under the weight of the arm, Kurt slid into Puck's embrace.

"My mom. She was a big ABBA fan." Kurt smiled at the memory of her dancing around the kitchen, singing along to ABBA's Greatest Hits album, "She almost fainted when we got her tickets to see _Mamma Mia!_ in New York."

"When did she die?" Puck inquired softly, hoping it wouldn't upset the boy to ask.

"2001. Car Crash." Kurt's face wasn't showing any emotion, but when Puck looked deeper into his eyes, he saw all the sadness there, balled up and hidden away, "Today's her birthday."

Puck squeezed his shoulder. "Tell her I say Happy Birthday." Kurt smiled and looked at Puck.

"What brings you here?" Kurt felt Puck tense up slightly so he put his hand on the jock's knee. Puck glanced at him with gratitude.

"My bubbe just died of breast cancer. Her funeral was today."

"I'm sorry, Puck." Kurt leaned into Puck and wrapped his arm around the larger boy. Puck, surprisingly to both of them, hugged him back and let a few tears go.

"I miss her. She was the only person I really trusted. The only person who knew me and saw past all my horse shit. It's going to be so hard without her." Puck felt Kurt nod into his neck. They let go of each other and Kurt crossed his legs pretzel style, a slight smirk crossing his lips.

"Bubbe?" Kurt teased and Puck punched him lightly on the arm before chuckling himself.

"It's Hebrew for 'Grandmother'. I never realized how ridiculous it sounds." Puck shrugged and Kurt nodded. He thought it was sweet that a guy like Puck had a cute name for his grandma.

"If you don't mind me asking, but aren't you supposed to wear dark colors to funerals?" Kurt gestured at Puck's outfit- a white dress shirt, beige dress pants and a light blue tie. Puck just laughed. The sound was new to Kurt. Kurt had heard Puck snicker, and every once in a while chuckle, but this was the first time Kurt had ever heard the boy whole heartedly laugh. He liked it.

"Bubbe was not a woman of tradition. She rather make her own traditions. We spent Passover at Cedar Point, the amusement park, almost every year." Puck eyes lit up as the memories flashed before his eyes. _'Bubbe! I don't want to go on this one! It goes upside down!' Little Puck stared at his shoes, wondering what made them light up. They were too small to have a light bulb. 'Noah, bubbala, trust me. You'll love it.' He wasn't convinced. He huffed and puffed while they waited online. When they got off, Puck had wanted to go on again. _Puck smirked to himself, she was always right.

"She sounds awesome, Puck." Kurt patted him on the back, "I wish my grandma was that cool. She just smells funny and calls me Carl." Puck chuckled.

"Yeah, she was a firecracker."

A comfortable silence fell over the boys as they both laid down in the grass. Every once in a while, one of them would spurt out with a random thought and a conversation would lead from it. _'Do you think they have real light sabers? Not like those dumb toy ones, but like actual laser ones?' 'I don't know, Puck, but if they did I'm sure they are really expensive.' _Or_'Do you think Coach Tanaka and Ms. Pillsbury have ever done the dirty?' 'Ew, Kurt, that's gross, dude. But yeah, I don't know. Ms. Pillsbury is all germ scared. And Coach is, well germy.' _

"So, how was summer treated you?" Puck asked lightly after a heated debate of Spiderman vs. Superman. ('_Puck! He is stronger, faster, and can fly!' 'Yeah but MJ's a total babe.') _

"Good. Can't really complain. I've spent a good majority of it in my dad's garage. How's yours been?"

"You work in your dad's garage?" Puck asked, surprised that Kurt Hummel, of all people, got down and dirty in an Auto Garage. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I do. How else can I afford Marc Jacobs?" Puck scoffed and Kurt giggled.

"My summer's been pretty boring. Football has been tough. Coach is set on a winning season. And he'll be disappointed," Kurt chuckled and Puck pushed him lightly, "Hey maybe you should rejoin the team."

Kurt rolled his eyes dramatically and Puck smiled. From Kurt's bag, the pair heard the beginning bars of Beyonce's _Sweet Dreams _and Kurt leaned forward and pulled the phone from its pocket. It was just Mercedes. He'll call her back tonight. He checked the time on the front of his phone and gasped. It was already six o'clock.

"I should really be getting home. My dad's probably peeing himself in anxiety, I told him I'd be home at four." Puck laughed and Kurt smiled at the sound, "Do you need a ride?"

"Nah. I brought my pick-up. Thanks though." Puck stood up and stretched his back. Kurt gathered the sheets of music into his bag and stood up with the boy.

"Puck," Kurt said softly and he cast his head downwards, refusing to make eye contact with the jock, "I uh just want to thank you. For being a friend." Kurt looked up slightly and Puck pulled him into a hug.

"Thanks for letting me be one."

Both boys headed towards the parking lot and signed out. When they saw their respective cars they looked at each other one more time and waved.

**AN: Cheesy and lame. Sorry, guys. Song Credit goes to ABBA for I Have A Dream. I had a dream of Kurt singing it acapella. (sp?)**

**PS Bubbala is a yiddish term of endearment. My great aunt calls me bubbala. and kholerye is "good-for-nothing"**


End file.
